


Itsy Bitsy Spider

by Kyriadamorte



Series: weave me a web of steel and sunshine (sensate-verse AU) [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Sense8 (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2018-11-30 22:30:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11472996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyriadamorte/pseuds/Kyriadamorte
Summary: A collection of one-shots too small to be their own work in the what-if-Thedas-had-sensates-verse.Chapters labeled with prompt and main characters & ships.





	1. Choice - Varric (background Fenris/F!Hawke)

**Author's Note:**

> Tags will be updated as more works are added, BUT ship tags will only be added when there are 3+ works so as not to gum up the tags. I refuse to be that person who has a ship tag for a collection of hundreds of drabbles and only one of them matches.
> 
>  
> 
> Feel free to submit prompts if you think of any! I take everything from single word prompts to super-in-depth plot bunnies. My only reservation is that I can't do modern AUs. Like at all.

Prompt: Choice

 

Varric had never even considered giving Hawke to Cassandra. There was never even a choice.

 

Dwarves don’t normally dream, but sometimes he sees the bodies of dead slavers and wildflowers being woven into white hair and hears the whispered thanks of mage children hiding from flaming swords.

 

They had found - well, not peace, neither of them really knows what to do with peace anymore, but _something_.Hawke’s whole family was dead and Fenris’s might as well have been, but they were together ( _finally!_ ) and Varric cannot bring himself to pull her away from what they’re trying to build.  He wants her story to have a happy ending, even if it's one he'll never write.

 

When she visits, Varric does his best to downplay the situation. 

 

_No, the seeker hasn’t actually kidnapped me - I can leave whenever I want._ _I’ve got three meals a day and a roof over my head and more guards looking after me than I know what to do with and I haven’t had to pay for a single one of them.Here’s the safest place for me, really, Hawke._

 

_That hole in the sky? Don’t worry - we’ve got plans.  Anyway...how's Ser Magic-Has-Cooties dealing with playing babysitter?_

 

_No, I don’t need you to come in - I need you out in the field.Keep an eye out for any weird Tevinter cultists.Yeah, try to get His Glowing Grumpy Pants to_ not _kill them long enough to find that out._

 

_No, Hawke, I mean it.Stay out there and tell me about anything weird you run into._

 

It’s just his luck she’s there when he finds out about Corypheus.

 

He should never have convinced her to bring her family to Kirkwall.

 

“You people have done enough to her.”

 

_I’ve done enough to her._

 

No, Varric never really had a choice.


	2. Secrets (Sebastian) / Disappointment (Merrill) / Smother (Isabela)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more DA-2-centric stuff to go in sensate-verse.

**Secrets**

 

They all agree very early on that there are some things Sebastian _does_ _not need to know._

 

 

**Disappointment**

 

Merrill holds Keeper Marethari as she shakes and shudders.For a moment, Merrill still has hope.It’s not her, she can already tell, but surely _someone_.Even a small cluster would be a blessing to their clan.

 

The Keeper opens her eyes and Merrill’s hope gives way to disappointment - an old friend to both of them at this point. 

 

This is the third attempt in as many years, but Merrill knows it will be the last for a while at least.Marethari is not young anymore and each failed attempt seems to drag a year or two away from her.

 

Merrill thinks, not for the first time, that Keeper Marethari might be more successful if she lifted the wards that barred against non-elves.

 

She knows that many other clans use no such wards - a division amongst the clans that is the cause of some of the most heated debates at each Arlathvhen.Keeper Marethari has always fallen back on the same argument: “Never again shall we submit - if we tie ourselves to them, how soon will it be before they stamp out all that remains of The People, leaving us little better than those that live in their shemlen cities?”

 

_We already_ are _tied to them,_ Merrill thinks, frustration rising in her. _Besides, would it truly be so bad to remind them that they are, in turn, bound to us?_

 

It is times such as these that Merrill is struck by how much of their own history they have lost, how much they need to rediscover.If they, the Dalish, cannot even agree amongst themselves about such a fundamental thing….

 

She says nothing.Not this time.  She is not sensate and this is not her purview.

 

She thinks of broken glass and a small tool she knows Keeper Marethari keeps in her Aravel.

 

She has her own battles to fight. 

 

 

**Smother**

 

Isabela has heard the sex can be _amazing._  

 

A smuggler she’d been _acquainted_ with had apparently had a fling with a woman in his cluster - a Chasind herbalist with a vivid imagination and few taboos about sex to burden her.

 

Apparently, you can fuck while being separated by fields, some mountains and a few bodies of water. _A rather impressive method of birth control._ The best sex, he had insisted, however, was when he had finally caved and found her in person.

 

“Best lay I have ever had in my fucking life,” he’d repeated, quite a few times.

 

“You’ve obviously never tried me,” Isabela had said because, at the time, he hadn’t yet.

 

“Nah,” he shook his head. “There’s something about fucking someone while feeling how you’re fucking them….You can’t ever really top that.”After a moment he added, “And your lady-orgasms that go on for-fucking-ever.”

 

She has no way to prove or disprove his story, but he’d navigated her with a skill she rarely encounters with her male lovers so she’s inclined to believe him.

 

She asks Varric and Hawke if they’ve ever taken advantage of that particular aspect of their connection.Varric sputters and chokes on his drink while Hawke merely smirks and says, “Before or after I came to Kirkwall?”

 

Isabela cackles in equal parts appreciation of Hawke’s ability to match her toe-to-toe in sexual banter and amusement at Varric’s blustering indignation. 

 

Pity it’s all just Hawke’s particular brand of bullshit.

 

Probably.

 

Isabela’s pretty sure - she can usually tell about that sort of thing.

 

“Oh, either - both!” Isabela’s drunk and happy and curious as to how far Hawke is willing to push this.

 

“Why are you asking, Rivani - Jealous?” Varric asks, in an obvious attempt to regain some control over the direction this conversation has taken.

 

Isabela thinks of being bound to a person like that.To being bound to _multiple_ people like that.Of getting on a ship and sailing out beyond the horizon to lands uncharted and it _still not being far enough_.

 

She rolls her shoulders back against the feel of unease that settles in her at the thought.Breathes through her nose to fight against the sensation of being smothered.

 

She can see that this connection has been good for Hawke and Varric both.She sees their easy camaraderie and their frankly terrifying way of playing off of each other’s fighting styles and she understands, she really does.

 

She thinks if it were her, though, she might kill herself.

 

“Oh, but of course, Varric,” she answers instead.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who came for the Cullen/Trevelyan, but are still reading this anyway - thank you! I promise I'll get some more ship-centric stuff out at some point.
> 
> For those of you wondering about a Fenris-centric one, it is in in the works and should be out relatively soon.


	3. Pain - Fenris/F!Mage!Hawke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris is no stranger to pain, but he doesn't know if he's ever hurt quite like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I was gonna wait for 3 separate chapters with a pairing before putting it in the tags, but this one was long enough and the pairing is gonna be prominent enough throughout this collection that I feel comfortable putting it up now.
> 
> minor TW for Fenris's vague allusions to his past

**Pain**

 

Fenris is no stranger to pain.It's a song he knows by heart at this point, a melody he can sing in many keys.

 

His lyrium brands have been a source of constant pain for him as long as he can remember.They are a constant ache even on the best of days, the throb of a three day old bruise that never really leaves.He knows sharper pain too - a whip against his back, a knife slicing into his skin.

 

He is so intimately acquainted with the myriad of ways that people can hurt each other that Hawke's gentle touches continue to surprise him.He'd seen her hug the others, slap them on the back (or the ass, in Isabela's case).He'd seen her "play Big Spoon" - her words, not his - to the blood mage and eat entire meals sprawled out in Varric's lap.He still jumped, though, the first time she'd touched him, even though it was just the lightest brush of fingers against forearm.He knows she's holding herself back as much as she can.Hawke is a woman who might not even know soft, sentimental words, who firmly refuses to talk about her feelings, but shows her affection in smartass comments, endless favors and her whole body.Judging by the way she treats the others, refraining from bowling him over in a bear hug every time they see each other probably uses more of her self control than avoiding demonic possession.Still, thousands of small touches later, he still occasionally has to stop himself from flinching.

 

She's holding herself back even now - he can tell in the way his marks hum with her mana as her fingers run over them, but don't quite spring to life. (He mostly appreciates it - the part that resents her for pitying him is small in this moment and easily silenced.) Her lips occasionally pause from kissing to ask "Is this all right?" "And this?", "Show me what you need."

 

She doesn't say she loves him, but he feels it in every question, in every time she gives him back control.He's not quite sure what to do with it and he's sure he fumbles, but he can't manage to feel embarrassed when Hawke is looking at him like that.

 

He tries to burn each touch into his memory so he can turn it over and over again in his mind on days when the pain is especially bad, but he is lost in a sea of sensation and he cannot even find the divide between himself and Hawke, apparently, let alone keep track of the nuance of individual kiss and caress.

 

Everything is blurring together and he's having trouble breathing.He's looking down at her, but he's looking up at himself and he can feel his own hand on his breast (her breast).He's inside her, but it feels like she's inside him, too, slipping deeper beneath his skin than even the lyrium has ever reached.It's too much and not enough and, _kaffas_ , is this what it feels like when you want it?

 

~

 

When it's over and their breathing begins to slow, he slips to the side and they simply stare at each other silently, unwilling to be the first to break whatever it is that has settled between them.

 

" _Fenris_ ," Hawke whispers after a moment, her eyes scanning his face, searching for something.

 

He doesn't know if she finds what she's looking for because he buries his face in her neck, unable to withstand her scrutiny after what they've done.The fears of inadequacy that he'd managed to push away are creeping back.He wants to ask if he was all right but it sounds so childish and pathetic he bites his lip against the words, burrows further into her neck, breathing in her scent and falls asleep.

 

~

 

His dreams are brighter than normal.

 

He's in Tevinter- he can tell from the architecture - but it's not a place he remembers, not anywhere Denarius ever took him.He's peeling shriveled carrots and his mother is braiding his sister's bright red hair as she draws stick figures in the mud.

 

He's in Tevinter - somewhere else, a market? - but how can he be because Varric is right next to him, telling him a story about a dwarf fresh out of Orzammar who thought a lap dog was a wolf and Fenris is laughing with his whole body in a way he doesn't remember ever doing.

 

He's in Tevinter, the windowless hovel of house slaves and his mother is crying as he pushes past her."Leto, you don't have to do this!"Yes he does, of course he does - what can't she see that?

 

He's in Tevinter, in Minrathous and a younger Hawke is holding his hand but they're also in a village square in Fereldan, a cheerful ditty playing in the background.She shoots him a big, toothy grin, "Dance with me, Leto!" and he was never very good at denying her anything.

 

He's in Tevinter, but he's in a room that must be Hawke's bedroom and she's crying (but how can she be? Hawke never cries) and he wraps himself around her, kissing her forehead.

 

He's in Tevinter, but he-

 

-he's in Hawke's bed in Hightown and he throws himself out of it, landing on his ass with a thump, but there's no room for embarrassment, no room for anything but the pounding of blood in his ears and fear and doubt and _Hawke_ -

 

"Fenris?" she murmurs, trying to blink away sleep.

 

Fenris scrambles with his clothes, his fingers shaking.

 

"Was it that bad?"

 

Fenris can hear the genuine self-doubt behind the jest and normally he'd comfort her, but he can't, he can't, he has to get away, far away.

 

He hears her sitting up, but he's no longer looking at her, focusing all his attention on his gauntlets, which refuse to _fucking_ strap-

 

"Are you all right?"

 

"I remembered." The words come without him bidding them to. Whispered, but sharp. Clipped."In my dream. I began to remember. Things. Flashes."

 

When did his clothing get so many _fucking buckles?_

 

There's a sharp intake of breath.

 

"Le- Fenris- I- Look, I can explain-"

 

"Was it funny? Did you and the dwarf laugh?Every time I told you-"

 

"What? No! Fenris, how can you say that?"

 

"Then _why did you not_ _fucking say something_?"

 

He whirls on her now, lyrium brands blazing to life.Hawke jumps, clutching the blanket to her chest as if it would stop him.There's fear in her eyes.She's afraid of _him_ and the absolute wrongness of that makes him falter before he sees her eyes steel and her chin tilt upward in defiance.  (He's seen this look against countless foes in this godforsaken city, but he never thought to see it turned on him.)

 

"When was I supposed to do that, exactly?In between one of your daily diatribes about the evils of magic? Or after you told me that Meredith was right to kill a little girl without so much as a fucking trial because all _spider-minds_ are soulless, corrupted creatures who care little for the boundaries of others?Or maybe-"

 

"Don't. You don't get to do this."

 

He's furious - with her and with himself - and he feels tears stinging at his eyes.She keeps going. Hawke has never learned when to quit, when to shut the fuck up.

 

"You barely accept me as a mage; do you honestly think I was going to trust you with Varric's life? With my life?"

 

"I trust you with mine!"

 

"It's not the same!"

 

"No. It's not."

 

He hears her sigh and sees her run her fingers through her hair.

 

"Fenris, I know I should have-"

 

"I have to go."

 

His clothes are still askew as he pushes out the door.

 

"Fenris, wait!"

 

He ignores her, walking as fast as he can without breaking into an outright run.

 

~

 

Fenris is intimately acquainted with pain, but he doesn't know if he's ever hurt quite like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. 
> 
>  
> 
> Remember, if you have any prompts you'd like to send my way, feel free to share!


	4. Guilt (pre-Cullen/Trevelyan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Tranquil Deirdre Trevelyan works as Cullen's assistant some time after arriving at Skyhold.
> 
>  
> 
> Deirdre being Tranquil apparently does nothing to stop them both from being incredibly awkward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I haven't forgotten who the main pairing of this story technically is :-) Shout out to those of you that came for the ship, but are still reading my other stuff 
> 
> TW for discussion of dub-con/non-con.
> 
> Note: There will never be anything that isn't fully consensual between these two, if that has you worried. Both of them obviously have pasts with non-con, though, so if you need details about how to navigate some of their chapters, drop me a line and I can either let you know what to avoid or try to send you an edited chapter. This one is pretty tame, but it could get darker as the story progresses and I want you guys to have a safe reading experience.

**Guilt**

 

The sunburst brand stares back at him on her forehead from across his desk where’s she’s working.She’s completely absorbed in her work as only a Tranquil can be. 

 

_Scratch scratch scratch._

 

Her quill has not stopped moving for more than a second or two to reapply ink since she arrived this morning.For a moment, he envies her ability to concentrate; in the next, he recoils in a wave of self-loathing.  A familiar sensation since Deirdre has begun working as his assistant.

 

“Are you sure?” Lavellan - the Inquisitor - _Siona_ \- had asked, visiting through their bond even though they slept in towers not ten minutes away from each other.

 

She wants Deirdre looked after.He thought she’d known that he wants that, too.Doubt flickers on her face and he doesn’t know why it hurts as much as it does.It shouldn’t be a surprise.

 

“She is - was - a Circle mage and knows how they’re taught, what their strengths are, their weaknesses.She’s also visited enough with me that she has a fairly good idea of how templars operate.Moreover, she knows what problems we’re likely to run into by putting them together…besides the obvious ones.If we’re serious about creating mixed units, she’s the best assistant I could hope for.”

 

She eventually agrees, but Cullen knows the arrangement still makes her a bit…uneasy.

 

It’s true that Deirdre is the best choice for an assistant; he hadn’t lied about that.But there’s another reason why he chose to work with her.  He ran away from his guilt once; he _will not_ do so again.

 

And - because he is apparently incapable doing things by half measures - this has translated into having the main source of his guilt sitting right across from him.Staring him in the face.Nearly all of his waking hours.

 

“You are staring at me again.” Deirdre says, barely glancing up.“Am I causing offense?:

 

“No, of course not,” Cullen says abruptly, returning to his papers and at least pretending to read them and make notes.

 

Apparently, this doesn’t fool Deirdre.

 

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

 

Cullen manages to choke at this, despite the fact that he hasn’t been drinking anything.

 

“ _Excuse me?”_ he manages to get out eventually.

 

“When templars looked at me before, it sometimes meant they wanted to have sex.Would it make you more efficient if we had intercourse?”

 

“I- what- no.I would never-That’s not-“

 

Tranquil are incapable of feeling second hand embarrassment or impatience and so she lets him stutter and make a fool of himself for a few minutes, continuing to write in her notes the entire time.

 

_Scratch scratch scratch._

 

“I am simply feeling a bit under the weather today.Even if that were not the case, you are not required to…have sex with me.”A thought occurs to him.“You are not required to have sex with _anyone._ If anyone implies otherwise, you are to get away and tell me immediately and I will deal with them.”

 

He’d not protected her.He’d not protected dozens of Tranquil before her.

 

He knows better now.

 

“If it would make you more efficient, that would be preferable.”

 

_Maker’s breath_ , Cullen doesn’t remember meeting any Tranquil that was quite this relentless.Even now, Deirdre manages to be irritating.

 

“It would not.”

 

They continue to work in silence for a few minutes before Cullen speaks again.

 

“It’s the lyrium.I’ve stopped taking it.”

 

He doesn’t know why he’s telling her this.She’s no absolution to give him and he wouldn’t deserve it even if she did.

 

“Lyrium withdrawal has an incredibly high mortality rate.”

 

Her voice is flat, as if she were discussing Orlesian taxes and not his possible demise.

  
  
“I’m aware.”

 

“You would continue without it even though it would make you a better commander?”

 

Cullen pushes past the sting to his pride. “I don’t think it _would_ make me a better commander,” he says quietly.

 

Surprisingly, she doesn’t continue to question him, but rather peers at him for a moment or two in silence before returning to her work.Cullen could swear he saw a flicker of something in her eyes - contemplation…curiosity at the least.

 

_Scratch scratch scratch._

  
  
He must have been mistaken.


	5. Defend (mostly Cullen) / Pretty (Bull & Adaar)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Defend - Cullen centric
> 
> Cullen reacts to Lavellan as the Inquisition's prisoner.
> 
>  
> 
> Pretty - Bull & Adaar
> 
> Adaar is not Bull's biggest fan.

**Defend**

 

How is this happening again?

 

She’s hurt and she’s in chains he needs to stop it.He doesn’t know how to stop it.They’ve all taken one look at her hand and her ears and decided she did it, but none of them know her; none of them know that Siona Lavellan is the least likely terrorist in all of Thedas.(But how the Void is he supposed to tell them that?How will he explain in a way that won’t get them both immediately imprisoned or executed?) He grips the wall to brace himself against the cold, sinking feeling in his stomach.He sees a pretty girl who used to smile at him back in Fereldan.He sees a sallow face with dark hair and grey eyes and a hooked nose.He cared about them - he _did_.He should have saved them.He didn’t.

 

He sees pale tattoos standing out against dark skin as a mop of hair sticks to a forehead slick with sweat.Siona Lavellan’s face is scrunched in pain as she whimpers and thrashes and calls out against unseen foes.A human man and a bald elf hover over her, attempting to deal with…whatever is on her hand.The green light pulses and flickers, illuminating the chains around her wrists.

 

Well, there are perhaps _some_ things he can do.

 

“Are those really necessary?” he asks, gesturing to the offending shackles.

 

“You would have her unbound?” Cassandra asks, indignant and incensed - what seem be her default emotions in times of crisis.“She destroyed the conclave!"

 

"You don't know that!" Cullen and the bald elf say in unison.They catch each other’s eye, apparently equally surprised by the other’s reaction.

 

“What other explanation could there be?Why would a Dalish elf of all people be at the conclave?Why would her hand be marked with the same magic that destroyed-That _killed_ -“

 

Her voice breaks and Cullen remembers that, unlike most who mourn the Most Holy, Cassandra had actually known the woman.He’s hardly unfamiliar with using anger to mask or ward off grief; he cannot hold it against her now….but he cannot let her sacrifice an innocent woman on the pyre of that grief either. 

 

What other explanation? There were, in fact, a few other legitimate reasons for Siona’s presence there.

 

She, along with Cadash and Adaar, had gone to the conclave with the intent of asking around (or, in Cadash’s case, snooping and bribing around) to see if anyone had known what had happen to Deirdre since she had been made Tranquil.( _your fault your fault your fault - no, not now, now’s not the time to think about that.You can still save someone, but you have to_ focus)Mages and Templars and Clerics (and their paperwork) from all over Thedas all in one spot - where better to search for information?Also-

 

“Perhaps her clan simply wanted to know how the war was progressing, what decisions the Chantry was making.”There.Not an unreasonable guess, certainly not something that anyone could claim he’d known…via unsavory methods.

 

“Perhaps,” the bald elf (Solar? Solan?) agrees, with a thoughtful expression and a slight incline of his head.“Although it is rather rare for the Dalish to concern themselves with matters beyond themselves.Until she wakes, we won’t know for certain.”

 

Cullen resists the urge to smack him upside the head. _Really, were you trying to help her or not?_ Maker knows Cullen is terrible at manipulation, but he’s fairly certain undermining your own narrative is not particularly helpful.

 

“Really,” he says with false confidence, trying to salvage the situation.“You don’t think it concerns the Dalish what the Chantry decides about mages?” He wracks his memory for the main talking points Lavellan had imparted to him not two days ago. “That they might be interested in, I don’t know, whether or not there is going to be another _Exalted March?_ ” 

 

Varric, who’s been surprisingly quiet during this exchange, speaks up from his position in the corner.“Especially considering who their queens are, right, Curly?”

 

Cullen grinds his teeth and wonders why in the all that the Maker’s Light Touches could the dwarf not have kept his uncharacteristic silence up for perhaps _another bloody minute._

 

_“_ Queens?” the elf asks, brows furrowed in confusion.

 

“Keeper,” Cullen clarifies, exasperated. “I…misspoke once while we were in Kirkwall and Master Tethras _apparently_ feels that this is an appropriate time to bring it up.”

 

“Ugh,” Cassandra sighs with disgust, something the dwarf manages to elicit in her more often than most. “Regardless of these other _alternative possible explanations_ , you cannot deny that all of this is extremely suspicious.”

 

“I wasn’t aware that we were in the business of executing people on suspicion,” Cullen says, trying to regain some control over the conversation.

 

Varric snorts.“Of course not.”

 

Cullen closes his eyes.He deserved that, he knows, but he really wishes Varric would have _waited five bloody minutes_ to air their dirty laundry.And preferably _not_ in front of Seeker Cassandra.

 

“I agree,” Leliana’s voice comes from the corner and, Maker, if she hasn’t changed from the bright young woman she was ten years ago (although he’s hardly one to talk). “However, Cassandra, you cannot deny that we will do better with more information rather than less.Besides, if Solas is right, she might be our only chance at closing the Breach, regardless of her role in its creation.”

 

Cassandra’s eyes narrow as she considers Lavellan’s prone form.She gives a short, curt nod.

 

“Agreed.No decisions will be made until she wakes and has been questioned.”

 

She makes to leave before turning back to Cullen, “But the shackles stay _on_.”

 

**Pretty**

 

When Bull arrives at Haven, he’s a bit surprised to see he’s not the only Qunari there. 

 

It takes him about fourteen minutes to realize that, in a way, he _is_ the only Qunari there.It doesn’t really take Ben Hassrath training to see that Galilon Adaar is Vashoth.The name itself is a bit of a give away - obviously not Qunlat, although he’s having a bit of trouble placing it (he files it away for later for further examination).There’s also the way he speaks.He’s got none of the blunt, clipped phrasing that even most Tal-Vashoth seem to carry over from their life under the Qun and he uses idioms and euphemisms and bizarre human social niceties in a way that took Bull _years_ to master.

 

He keeps an eye on him (heh, _eye)_ just like he keeps an eye on everyone else in this bizarre human-but-maybe-not, Chantry-but- _really_ -not organization.Adaar is definitely keeping an eye on him, too.He’s not subtle about it, either.The first time the Boss decides to take him with her, he feels Galilon Adaar’s gaze on the back of his head pretty much until Haven disappears from view.He also tends to watch Bull and the Chargers train, leaning against Haven’s walls with his arms across his broad, bronze chest.Not that Bull entirely objects to this.Most people don’t think Qunari ( _ox-men_ ) can be pretty.Sure, plenty still find them attractive in a huge, muscled and gruff sort of way; Bull has no shortage of people wanting to jump his bones, but no one would call him _pretty._

 

Galilon Adaar is definitely pretty.

 

His hair is woven back into a single long braid (occasionally adorned with ribbons, of all things) that nearly touches his frankly _unfairly_ sculpted ass.His beard is usually styled, as well, featuring a wide array of different beads on any given day.Even his horns resemble a simplified version of that elf-deer-thing ( _halla,_ an exasperated voice in his head that sounds an awful lot like Dalish supplies).

 

“See something you like?” Bull leers at him one evening as he watches the Chargers train, hoping for some sort of reaction (although he’s not quite sure what).

 

He doesn’t even blink at being called out, leveling Bull with an amused, assessing gaze that he’s pretty sure is meant to unnerve him.It’s mostly unsuccessful.Mostly.

 

“Oh, I’m having a _great_ time.Learning all sorts of interesting things.”

 

Most people would take this as a come on.Bull wishes he could, too, but he’s fairly certain Adaar is far more interested in what makes him fall on his ass than his ass, generally.

 

“Care to share with the class?” Bull asks, readying himself for another drill with Krem and Rocky.

 

Adaar gives him a smile that, yeah, okay, is _fully_ creepy.

 

“No, not really.”

 

He just keeps watching them and now even Krem apparently feels the weight of his stare, which makes him sloppier than normal. _Damn it, kid, we’ve got to teach you how to ignore distractions._ After about a half hour, Bull gives up this particular training session as a loss and tells the guys to pack up for the night.

 

He corners Adaar and decides enough is enough.

 

“Look, you’ve got a problem with me, I get it.Not sure what it is, but I get it - no skin off my back, plenty of people do.But you’re messing with my guys’ training and that means we’ve got to figure this out.Now.”

 

The corner of Adaar’s lip curls upward in something close to approval, his gaze meeting Bull’s, unwavering, the whole time.

 

“I’m just wondering why you’re here, what you want out of all this.”

 

Bull resists the urge to roll his eyes ( _eye_ ); last thing he needs are tempers flaring while he sorts this crap out.

 

“I thought I was pretty open about what I want, about what the Qun wants.A bit too open, depending on who you ask.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“Really?You think I don’t care about closing a giant hole in the sky that’s spewing demon crap everywhere?”

 

“Oh no, I’m sure you’re genuine about that.But you’re Ben Hassrath - just because I wasn’t born under the Qun doesn’t mean I’m just some idiot _bas_ who doesn’t know what that means.”

 

“Oh?And what _does_ that mean?”

 

“It _means_ you have no fewer than four or five ulterior motives at any given time as well, even if you don’t know it, yet.”

 

Great, of course he’s got to deal with some Vashoth’s personal bullshit.Never lived a day under the Qun and all of sudden they’re experts.Just what he needs.

 

“Like _what?_ ”

 

“Not sure.” He says, lightly.Too lightly.“Could be benign shit, nothing we have to worry about.”

 

Oh yeah, he sounds real sold on that option.

 

“And if not?” Bull asks.

 

Adaar’s smile widens, all teeth, still fucking beautiful and still fucking creepy.

 

“And, if not, you won’t be the first Ben Hassrath I’ve killed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There might be some more coming out fairly soon. For whatever reason, my brain has been pouring out a bunch of Bull-centric drabbles and I didn't want them to put them all in one section, since they're all over the place chronology-wise and the fit would be...weird. Stay tuned.
> 
> Also, couldn't leave out the jab at Cullen calling the Dalish Keeper Queen in DA2 b/c HONESTLY what an iconic moment.


	6. Revelation - Cullen & Gang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang talks strategy and Cullen makes an unsettling discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, I had fun with this one.

**Revelation**

 

“You should be using us out in the field.”

 

The cluster has managed to cram themselves into Lavellan’s tiny little cabin, ostensibly to discuss strategy, and that’s not _too_ far from the truth.Even Gaius and Ragna have joined them mentally, although Gaius keeps flitting in and out to attend to his duties.It’s the first time Cullen has been with all of them together, though, and the whole thing is making him…nervous.He tells himself he shouldn’t be - after all, four of them are here in person, talking with each other face to face like normal people - but he can’t shake the feeling that by having so many of them so close together he’s somehow painted a huge sign on the tiny cabin in bright red letters saying “HERETIC SENSATES INSIDE.”

 

There’s also the glaring absence of a sharp tongued mage with a hooked nose and big ears that has Cullen longing for a tiny blue bottle.

 

_Focus._

 

Lavellan- Siona- _The Herald_ sighs and runs a hand over her tattooed face, barely looking at Adaar.She looks exhausted and Cullen’s heart aches for her.Even before, she cared so fiercely all the time about everyone - even him.Now there’s a lot more everyone for her to care about and it’s pulling her in too many directions. 

 

“Gal, I know you’re a bit bored back here, but really it’s-“

 

Galilon Adaar cuts her off.“Just because we’re surrounded by Chantry idiots it’s like all of a sudden we’re all buying the bullshit they’re selling.”

 

Adaar doesn’t look at Cullen, but he feels the jab all the same.As far as Cullen can tell, Adaar hasn’t entirely made up his mind as to how he feels about Cullen.Some days he’ll bring Cullen tea and massage his neck when stress and withdrawal have tightened him into one giant knot of pain.Other days, he won’t speak to Cullen, won’t even look him in the face.He suspects that their sparring matches - especially the ones where Galilon slams him again and again into the dirt - are as much about venting his feelings as training.Not that Cullen can blame him.

 

“Look,” Adaar continues. “We’ve got an amazing gift and we could be using it to coordinate our attacks and gather information from all across Thedas instead of spending all our energy trying to pretend it doesn’t exist!”

 

“Gal, I’m not-“ Lavellan starts, uncharacteristic frustrating creeping into her voice. “You _know_ how my people treasure our connection and how I treasure each and every one of you, but like you said _we’re surrounded by Chantry idiots._ They went from believing a was a murderer to claiming I was sent by their Maker in a _day._ What makes you think that they won’t be able to revise that opinion again just as quickly if they find out I’m a ‘spider-mind’?Creators, Gal, I’m a _Dalish elf_ \- most of them are still having trouble trusting and respecting me as it is!We’ve already lost one of us; why are you asking me to risk the rest of you?”

 

Cullen feels everyone’s gaze turn to him.Adaar breaks the silence before it becomes completely suffocating, “You’ve already got Gaius looking into Venatori activity in Tevinter.Why can’t-“

 

“And it's fucking terrifying _and_ I have to justify and talk my way around every bit of information he gives us!Everyone already finds it a bit suspicious when I have access to information that Leliana, _Leliana_ , does not.I’ve managed to mostly sell the story of taking advantage of an escaped-slave underground, but there’s a limit to-“

 

“They all believe you’re sent by some holy burning bint,” Cadash says and Cullen bristles at the description of Andraste. “Can’t you just say you’re getting visions or some other kind of horseshit?”

 

Siona levels the dwarf with a look that she probably means to be withering, but comes across as amused.

 

“Isn’t it rather a moot point?”Cullen asks. “We don’t have the necessary control to-“

 

“ _You_ don’t have the necessary control.The rest of us have been brain boot-camping for the last few months, can hop to and fro like a bunny in springtime,” Cadash says with a smirk. 

 

Cullen’s peering off into mid-distance, still trying to work out what that means when Lavellan sighs again and speaks, “I suppose I could ask Varric to cover for us.He’s no Leliana, but he’s got his own contacts.”

 

“And what would we tell him?” Cullen asks, not seeing how this is a solution.

 

“The truth; he’s hardly going to turn us in.”

 

“How can you know that?”

 

“He visited with me not long after we came back from Val Royeaux.”

 

It takes a minute before Cullen can process why this should be at all comforting, “Wait- you don’t mean- Visited?As in, _visited_ visited?Like we visit?”

 

“Snappily put, goldilocks,” Cadash sniggers.Gaius is biting his lip and doing his best not to laugh.

 

“Yes,” Lavellan answers, bemused. “Like we visit.”

 

“But…how is that even possible?Is he part of our cluster?”

 

He hadn't really met Ragna until recently - was he missing others, too?

 

“I keep forgetting how little you know,” Ragna says sadly, shaking her head.“I have failed you so-“

 

“Hardly your fault he was keeping you out by drugging himself silly,” Cadash says, nursing a drink that Cullen can smell from across the room and, alright, that’s fair, but it’s a _bit_ ridiculous that Cadash gets to lecture anyone about substance abuse of all things.

 

“When you meet other sensates,” Ragna says, putting on her best teacher voice, “face-to-face, I mean, you’ll usually be able to connect with them and they with you.It’s not the same as being part of a mind-hold, not as close, but you’ll be able to do some similar things.”

 

Cullen takes a moment to process this and firmly ignores the part of his mind that tells him he wouldn’t have to worry about any of it if he just took some lyrium.

 

“Wait, so you’re telling me that Varric. _Varric._ Varric Tethras from Kirkwall. _That_ Varric is sensate?He can just….pop into our heads?Whenever he likes?”

 

Cullen doesn’t know if he’s ever thought of anything more horrible. 

 

A second later, though, he does. 

 

Hundreds of puzzle pieces that he was to bloody stupid ( _or high_ , a nasty voice supplies) to notice have fit together all at once to create a truly horrifying picture.

 

“Oh, _Maker_ , Meredith was right.The Champion of Kirkwall- _shit.”_

 

He’s seen Gweneth Hawke.Gweneth Hawke has seen him. Gweneth Hawke, one of the biggest pains in his ass, has an all-access pass to the shit-show of his brain and vice versa. 

 

He needs to sit down.

 

The others work out how to best divide their efforts, but - if Cullen is perfectly honest - he’s mostly stopped listening at this point.


	7. Different (Gatt)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of a look at sensates in Tevinter and under the Qun through the eyes of Gatt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you asking about how sensates work under the Qun, this is NOT the last look we're going to be getting, but I hope this answers a few questions (and makes you ask even more)!

**Different**

 

Faelis is pale and shaking and the last of his meager breakfast is threatening to make a reappearance.Seheron is sunny and the weather is lovely and he hates every inch of it.He used to think there was no place worse than Minrathous.He looks out over a beach full of mangled corpses and he knows he was wrong.

 

It doesn't help that the worst part of Minrathous has come with him, is the reason he's in this hell hole.His master's hand is on the back of his neck, thumb stroking lazily at the spot under his ear, a mockery of a loving caress.His neck is bare, not even a decorative collar, and the grip on his neck is not particularly tight or controlling.

 

It doesn't need to be.There is no place Faelis can go that his master could not follow.

 

"Shall we go home now, little dove?"

 

He nods his head because he knows a reaction is expected, not because he has deluded himself into thinking his opinion actually matters.

 

They turn from the beach and make their way back to the ship that lays anchored in wait for them in the small cove beyond, two lone figures on the beach.It's always just them, in the end.

 

This time was worse than the last two, but not as bad as the first.This time, he was talking to people ( _lying, lying, he doesn't know how to tell the truth_ _anymore_ ) and making friends ( _being friendly, he's never had a friend in his whole, miserable life and he never will_ ), not just skulking at the edge of an old magister's consciousness.Unlike the first time, though, he wasn't dumb enough harbor any hope of escape.

 

There is no escape, not ever.No one can help him because no one knows his mind like his master, the one who made him what he is, who trapped him in this web.

 

~

 

When Hissrad saves him, it takes him a few weeks to accept that he’s free, that his master is gone.He’s alone in his head for the first time since he was a child and the quiet is deafening.He throws himself whole-heartedly into the tasks he’s assigned so he doesn’t have to acknowledge that there’s a part of him that misses it.

 

There’s a decade of anger and pain and self-loathing and now that he’s out of Tevinter he can’t seem to hold it in anymore.He rages and snaps and growls like a feral thing at everything and everyone and if he weren’t so small he knows he would be in a lot more trouble than he is.As it is, though, Hissrad just laughs or takes him aside and lets him vent and calls him Gatt and for the first time he thinks he might have a friend.

 

Then Hissrad leaves and Gatt has to remember how to be alone all over again.

 

~

 

A Tamasran takes him aside one day and asks him a question that makes his heart drop into his stomach.

 

“You are sensate, are you not?”

 

His mouth starts moving before his brain has time to stop it, “I- who told you?”

 

Shit.She steps a little closer, looming over him, her face impassive.She does not bother voicing her disapproval.

 

“I- Yes.I am.”

 

His heart is racing and he can barely breathe, but he manages to keep speaking nonetheless.“I have kept to myself though, Tamassran.I would _never-_ “

 

“The Qun requires your abilities.”

 

Her voice leaves no room for argument, but he still cannot fathom _why_  they're asking this of him _._ The Qun’s stance on sensates is pretty straightforward.Their corruption can turn even the most stalwart Qunari into a mad Tal-Vashoth.They are a blight on the land, on par with magic for the chaos and destruction they cause.They must all be eliminated.

 

He thinks of the minds he’s invaded, the blood on his hands.He understands completely.

 

This, though…this does not make any sense.

 

However, he’s learned better than to question.

 

~

 

He births a cluster and peers into their lives and writes it all down for eyes he'll never see in Par Vollen.

 

He tells himself it's different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Qun's behavior WRT mages has always felt SUPER hypocritical and sketchy to me (especially post-Trespasser) and I imagine their views on sensates would be no different.


End file.
